Hope Personified
by Halcyon Seraphim
Summary: After the death of their comrades, Hao and Macchi are left alone to avenge their deaths. And with a proclamation from Hao defining how weak she is, Macchi sets out to get stronger with the help of both her idol and her damnation...her Hao-sama. Rated for


**Hope Personified- Chapter 1: Die**

Author's Note: Okay, please, DON'T ask me if I was on crack when I came up with the idea for this. I know it's completely different from my usual style of writing, as it's actually centered on romance. I got the idea for this pairing _ages_ ago…as in way before anyone decided to post a fanfic on supporting it. And believe me, I've been keeping track. I just couldn't get any ideas on how to start it…what to write…etc…etc…etc…

Kiyuu: _And_ you couldn't plop your lazy ass in front of your computer to start typing it. �

JK: And this would be the person I was RPing with when the idea originated! Anyway, before I begin, I'd like to clear up a few things. The characters can and might be OOC. I can't help it, really…I have to stick to the manga, the dub, and what other knowledge about SK that I can pick up online or from my kickass/well-informed friends. So I'm not accepting flames for that, for you _have_ been warned. Another thing I'm not accepting flames for is the pairing. If you don't like it, don't go any further into this than you've already gone. And in the event that you _do_ choose to flame me, don't just tell me it sucks and run. I'd like to know just what about it sucks and how I can make it better. Gimme some credit, I'm new at the whole romance thing.

That aside, I'm making a dedication for this ficcie! Yay! So, yeah, Kiyuu-poopie, this is for you. (After all, the idea wouldn't be possible without ya!)

Disclaimer: The reason I know so little about Shaman King is because I don't own it, dolts. Hah! NOW YOU CAN'T SUE! (is shot)

-----

_Blood._

Every square inch of her body was drenched with the foul substance…and the blood was not just her own, but the blood of her closest comrades as well.

Bodies littered the ground like falling sakura blossoms, growing in number with every advancing minute. But, clutching her bleeding stomach, Macchi could only lie there in helpless submission, bearing witness to the unspeakable carnage.

"Damn it!" she swore vehemently. Her oversoul had been utterly destroyed. No usable weapon was near enough for her to grasp and at least attempt to contribute to her side's futile struggle. "H-hao…sama…" she choked out. "Where…are…" She collapsed onto the soft, moist floor, unable to say anymore.

"Now, now," a shrill, female voice chided her, administering a kick to her wounded side. "I wasn't quite finished with you yet." Macchi clasped her side, trying desperately to have as little blood as possible escape through the deep gash. "Come now…stand up." Macchi remained where she was, immobile, scarcely able to breathe and scarcely able to process what was occurring around her. "All right. If you can't stand, I'll help you." The female shaman lifted Macchi by her collar so that she was dangling several feet in the air. "Hmm…I wonder…where to place your mutilated bodies once we're done with you? No doubt it would have to be in plain sight of your 'lord,' the bastard you _dare_ call 'Hao-sama.'"

Macchi looked away from the woman, experiencing sharp intakes of breath.

"Speaking of which, where is he? The great Hao-sama couldn't even find a spare moment to show up and save the fools who pledge loyalty to him?" she asked cynically.

"He'll…come…" she managed.

"Hmm…he might. But I've no doubt that it'll be too late. If you look, your friends are already dead."

"Shut up…" Macchi whispered. "They're not…they can't be…"

"Oh, but they are…" the woman went on. Macchi glanced to her right and saw the last of her companions—she couldn't identify who it was through her unfocused eyes—battling on, desperately trying to regain what little dignity and pride of the Hanagumi's that had not already been torn to shreds.

Macchi tried looking away, but the woman forced her to turn her head and look once again.

"Don't turn the other way. You deserve to watch as your last living comrade meets their demise," she remarked, employing an exceedingly casual tone that made Macchi want to scream…if only she had the strength and the breath to do so.

And so, half-dead, she remained suspended limply in the air, watching their last remaining line of defense fall in a kind of twilight…a kind of dead, murky luminescence…

_I'm really going to die…like this…alone…without even knowing why they set out to claim our lives…_

"I hope you enjoyed the spectacle," the woman interrupted her thoughts, grinning, "for you'll be happy to know that you're next."

"Didn't I already kill you several hundred years ago?" an all too familiar voice said coolly, erasing the shaman's smirk. As she spun around, Macchi found herself colliding with the damp ground—although by this point she was too listless to comprehend the events that were taking place around her.

"You arrived quicker than I anticipated," she said, making a blatant effort to remain calm.

"As I always do." Hao Asakura's eyes darted across the expanse of land, crimson, viscous fluid running across it in a steadily expanding river, and processed the full extent of the manslaughter before him. If the woman expected any emotion to register itself on his face, she was thoroughly disappointed, for Hao's features remained completely impassive. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you and your lovely group of thugs visiting me today?" he instead asked brightly.

"Don't act like you don't know!" she hissed. "You wrecked our lives, Hao Asakura, and for that…you will pay."

"Your lot is numerous, you know," he answered, uninterested. "I've broken many like you before, and I can assure you that you weren't the last." _It…really is him…_ Macchi thought, relief flowing through her. There was no mistaking that callous and yet perpetually amused voice.

"Enough!" the female shaman cried, positioning her crossbow and shooting an arrow at him.

"You bore me," Hao remarked as the arrow burst into flame several feet from him. "Any other attempts you'd like to make before I end your pitiful lives and put you out of your misery?"

"Do you think it wise to kill me, Hao?" she asked him with a quivering smirk. "After all…I appear to have the upper hand."

"I see no reason for me not to kill you, but as you seem to enjoy pleading for some time before I cut your worthless life short, I suppose we can…chat. How's your master doing?" Hao asked with his fabled grin. "Last I checked, the old crone was an inch from death."

"She _is_ dead, you bastard. And if you intend to finish me off, cease your irrelevant chatter and do so! I would accept death rather than listen to you speak ill of our master!" she spat.

Smiling quite insincerely, Hao held up his index finger and waved it to and fro. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," he enunciated with every movement. "I have been honest with you from the start, Artemis, Assassin of the New Moon, but you fail to reward me with equal integrity. I know your kind. The instant your master dies, you prance off to find another equally strong or perhaps more powerful being to protect your frail existence."

"I'll have to give you credit for one thing, Hao. We _do_ pay allegiance to another."

"'We?'" With a wave of his hand, the woman's accomplices were engulfed in hellish flames. Their piercing screams were silenced only by the roaring in Macchi's own ears.

"You—how dare you?" the woman asked in a voice she plainly meant to appear bold but was emitted with more than an ounce of incredulity.

"My friends for yours, right?" Hao remarked simply. "Besides, too many people were speaking at once."

"Since when do _you_ have friends, Hao? I thought your followers were nothing more than pawns," the woman said vehemently.

"You seem to be under the misconception that a difference exists between the two." His comment stung Macchi to her core, but she understood his anger. Surely he was only speaking out of spite for Artemis…_surely_ his words were not a reflection of his true ideals…

"As fun as this witty banter has been, the time has come for this encounter to meet its conclusion. But I _am_ pleased that you're here, Asakura Hao. You now have the ample opportunity to see me destroy the last of your pawns." Artemis lifted Macchi to her feet and shook her violently. "And you have not attained the right to pass out. I want you fully conscious when I kill you." Against her will, Macchi forced her eyelids to permit vision and stared at the so-called Assassin of the New Moon lethargically.

"Go ahead. I'm waiting," Macchi remarked simply, shrugging her shoulders. _She'd be a fool to attempt to kill me in front of Hao-sama…but her audacity has already assured me of how much of a dull-witted individual she is. A truly wise person wouldn't have the spine to kill me in front of _my_ master…and as she seems willing, she's either experiencing the utmost bravery or complete and unadulterated stupidity._ Macchi thought.

Artemis positioned her crossbow, only to see it ignite in the same inferno her arrow had suffered. With another wave of his hand, a pinprick of fire began its eager dance along her sleeve. Alarmed, she released both Macchi and her only weapon. Colliding with the damp ground—ground that was damp with human blood—Macchi found herself thoroughly sickened, breathing in the metallic scent.

If Hao noticed her at all, he paid not the slightest heed. He instead stood, impatiently tapping his foot and eyeing the fire of his own concoction that was now hungrily making its way up the woman's sleeve.

"The flames have been famished for a long time, and have selected you to satiate their hunger," Hao said calmly. "Once in hell, send your former master my condolences. I'd be a complete and utter wretch as well if I was forced to contend with inept minions such as your lot."

"You'll be in hell long before I am, Hao!" the woman barked, desperately trying to extinguish the flames that threatened to consume her whole.

Hao's eyes narrowed, and when he uttered his next words, they were spoken in the most detached and frostiest voice Macchi had ever heard him retain: "This _is_ my hell, Artemis, every joy-forsaken day of it." Shaking his head, Hao mentally reprimanded himself for allowing the encounter to ruffle his normally impenetrable exterior. "Dance, my little marionette," he continued with his usual, amiable cruelty. "Twirl in this sadistic waltz with death as I pull your strings. Your master never had the ability to outwit me or even so much as match my abilities, and I'm pleased—and unsurprised—to inform you that whoever she bade to continue her work is perhaps more foolish than she." As the flames made their way to her bare skin, Hao emitted a sardonic laugh. "Does it hurt? Don't fret, and instead take consolation in the fact that whoever sent you will burn like this a hundred times over."

Macchi was hard of will and hard of spirit—that much was true—but she was unable to stomach a living and breathing body slowly being toasted before her eyes. Helplessly emptying out everything she had eaten over the course of the past twenty-four hours, she thought bemusedly, _Amazing, Hao-sama. The destruction of your _pawns_ has completely unhinged you. Instead of the valor and mercy I thought you to possess, you're sinking to her level—to that of torture. You were always able to find methods of revenge far less mundane…methods of enacting vengeance with more finesse. You—the one I respected and looked up to—have actually managed to act as despicable as the fiendish-most felon._ Retching nothing but air, Macchi flipped onto her back and shut her eyes to the almost festive-seeming sight, vainly trying to obscure Artemis' shrill screaming.

"Macchi!" Hao called. Looking up and seeking out his eyes, longing for a look of solace or comfort, she was disappointed to find nothing but a steely glance that was icier than any winter gale. "Don't look away. You want revenge for them, don't you? This is it. Look at her burn, Macchi, and remember the sight well."

"Why are you doing this, Hao?!" Macchi asked, her voice bearing rage, anguish, and desperation. "Why are you forcing me to watch?!"

"Because this is the woman who tried to kill you. Because this woman killed those you held dear. A poor way for you to repay your fallen comrades, by pleading mercy for their murderer."

"No one deserves this, Hao! Can't you understand that?"

"Anyone who opposes me deserves this. And anyone who has my followers murdered deserves worse. Watch, Macchi. You're the only one left alive, and you now carry the burden of their destinies in addition to your own."

She reluctantly eyed the flaming figure before her, her hand covering her mouth so that she would not contribute a crescendo to the malevolent cacophony of screams.

"Why, Hao-sama?" she whispered, her words stolen by a soft, cool breeze. "Where's the sense in such exponential cruelty? And…cruelty not only to the woman who dared block your path…but also to the only one of your closest kin left alive?" The smell of burning flesh wafted through the air, a putrid and dizzying catalyst that triggered another bout of vomiting so violent that Macchi couldn't bear to move, let alone continue bearing witness to the horror. If Hao noticed her state of being, his stoic, set features revealed none of his notions.

Artemis, meanwhile, shrieked and begged for forgiveness, pleading for her life.

"A miserable being is what you are, not even worthy to lick my shoes, let alone be spared of this torment at my hands. How willing you are to abandon your current master and run, overcast by my shadow, now that you have been assured of my power. It's of no use pleading with me now. You've got two minutes. I suggest you pray."

Those two minutes elapsed with undying sluggishness, with Artemis' strident screams still piercing the darkening sky and with Macchi existing on the borderline between lucidity and unconsciousness.

Relentless and remorseless till the end, Hao merely trod over the shaman's remains—offering not even her ashes the slightest iota of reverence—and stood hovering over Macchi, waiting for her retching to cease. Observing that she had, at least, paused, Hao offered no explanation and grabbed Macchi's hair, forcing her to look in the direction of where the Hanagumi lay—or, at least, where the testament to her failure, her loss of dignity, and their loss of life lay. True, she had expected bitter disappointment from him, but certainly not unparalleled hatred and brutality!

"Hao-sama…please…stop…" she pleaded, gripping his cloak. Hao shook her grip free.

"Tell me. How is it that they all die at the hands of my enemies and you emerge virtually unscathed? How is it that they all battled on and you collapsed after a single stomach wound? _How is it that you contributed nothing to our cause, while they lost their lives?_"

Macchi blanched. She never realized how abrasive and scalding the words she so admired were when aimed in her direction. But she was determined not to concede, even if it _was_ to her Hao-sama.

"This was not my fault," she remarked bitterly. "They died by mere chance, and it is due to sheer dumb luck that I'm alive. But they're still every bit as much to blame as I am!"

"Ah, Macchi. Not even I can place blame on the dead," he said hollowly. Releasing her hair, Hao stood aimlessly staring off into the distance for some time before he finally said, "It's time to leave."

"What about their bodies?" she asked, finding herself too weak to look at him for fear of the expression she might behold.

"Of what use to me are they now that they're dead?" Without looking at the smoking, scarred battleground, Hao began making his departure.

"Matte!" Macchi called, still too weak to rise.

"Get up," Hao ordered without pity.

"I…can't…"

"Of course you can. You're not dead, yet." He lifted her to her feet and murmured, "Although you're about as useful to me as a broken wing is to a bird."

"Am I really that much of a burden?" she asked, hoping her voice did not betray how forlorn she felt.

Lost in that black contemplation of his once again, Hao didn't reply and instead began trudging down the declivity, leaving Macchi to fend for herself using whatever means she deemed necessary. With a final, furtive glance back at her friends' remains, Macchi slowly began her own descent, too wearied and emotionally damaged to notice that a small stream trickled alongside her and her master…a foreboding stream strongly reminiscent of the smell and the color…

…of blood…

------

"Chikusho…" Hao heard Macchi mutter in her fitful slumber. Trembling, she continued in a weak, dispirited voice. "I'm…sorry…it wasn't all my doing…Hao-sama, please…please don't abandon me…" Hao sighed and smiled wryly.

"Abandon you? You little fool, I couldn't abandon you for all the reasons your behavior today displayed. Leaving you to care for yourself would be murder. Your weakness…your dependency…I don't think I could bring myself to desert you, not when you possess qualities as pathetic as these." Taking his eyes off the single-player chess game he was engaged in, Hao employed the use of a stick to poke the bonfire. As Macchi's spasmodic movements grew more numerous, he shook his head wearily. "What possessed _me_ to ever accept you as a follower?"

"Stop…" she whispered.

Glancing in her direction, he wondered, _Did she hear me?_

"Please…Hao…I…don't want to see it again…" she went on. _I suppose that answers my unspoken question,_ he thought drably. "STOP!" she shouted pitifully.

Laughing quietly, Hao muttered, "I'm surprised her screams haven't woken _her_ up. She's kept me up for the past two hours." (A/N: …did that sound immensely perverted, or is that just my take on it?) His laughter was cut short as she gripped his sleeve, jolting awake. "Good morning," he told her sarcastically, as they were still shrouded in the dense darkness that accompanies midnight.

"You're…still here," she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"But you weren't, not for a while," he remarked, loosening her grasp on his clothing.

"What happened?" she asked, rubbing her head dizzily.

"You fainted on your way down the hill," Hao answered simply.

"I'm sorry for burdening you, then. You must have been forced to carry me back," Macchi said, apologetically and yet coldly. Hao smiled. _Angry at me, are you?_

"It wouldn't be the first time I saved you, now would it?" he asked her.

Macchi stared at him, watching the shadows dance on his attractive countenance in accordance with the playfully swishing flames. "I suppose not."

"Feeling better? You kept screaming out in your sleep. Apparently, today's events have traumatized you."

"I am _not_ traumatized," she snapped at him indignantly.

"Then perhaps your subconscious is. Why else would you—in your slumber—be _begging_ me to stop forcing you to watch that display earlier, when it has long since passed?" When Macchi was silent, Hao found himself grinning triumphantly. "It appears you are as weak-witted as you are weak-spirited." He directed his attention once again at the chess board and shifted a few pieces. _Engaged in a chess game with your multiple personalities, Hao-sama?_ Macchi thought drably.

Rather than prolonging the argument, Macchi instead posed a question. "What do you intend for us to do about Artemis' master, Hao-sama?" Hao's hand stopped in midair over the square he was in the process of inhabiting with a black rook. After a brief moment of uncertainty, he set the piece down and looked at her squarely.

"_We_, Macchi, will be doing nothing in regards to Artemis' master," Hao answered.

"Well, I understand that the woman you thought was her master is now dead, but I meant her current—"

"How much do you know about the game of chess, Macchi?" Hao interjected mysteriously. For an instant, she thought she had misheard his remark.

"…how much do I know about chess?" she repeated slowly.

"Yes. Chess. Is it a game you're familiar with?"

"I suppose. Like, I know what the pieces do, but I wouldn't call myself a brilliant strategist," she summarized.

"As you know the function of each piece, which would you deem the strongest player?"

"Probably the queen. I mean, she can move as many spaces as she wants in any direction she wants," she said with slight hesitance.

"And the weakest?"

"Well…the pawns, obviously. They _are_ the most numerous, as well as the ones you can usually stand to lose," Macchi said, her voice now confident.

"Ah…but did you know that if a pawn is to reach the stronghold of your opponent—that is, the very farthest row on the board from your own side—that pawn now functions just as a queen would?" Hao asked, smiling knowingly. Macchi eyed him, wondering if he was merely toying with her or if the sudden lesson had any real purpose or significance.

"I didn't, but that rarely happens, doesn't it?" she said dismissively.

"Not if you have to proper skill," Hao replied, smiling still wider as he looked back to the board. Ignoring how downright infuriating his crypticness was, she eyed her master as he eyed his apparently very enthralling game. _What are you up to, Hao-sama? What's the point of this stupid lesson in chess tactics?_ She wondered.

"Hao-sama…" she began slowly. He looked up and faced her. "Do you consider me—that is, all of us—to be or have been your pawns?" As his deadpan features remained completely unchanged, she was unsure of whether or not he had heard her. This lack of assurance died away the moment he smiled his broad, usual, sardonic smirk.

"Not all of you, Macchi. Of course not. Many were pawns. Others were far stronger pieces. But you—and I'm positive your true question was how I view your role more than anyone else's—you were a unique piece in my game. You, Macchi, were and still are my king."

"I…" she began, but the words were merely lodged in her throat. _His king? Is this patronization, flattery, or an outright lie?_

"Now I never actually told you which piece is the weakest in the game of chess. For—no matter how people abuse the term 'pawns' and are convinced that weaklings can be viewed as such—pawns are, in fact, far from being the weakest pieces. The king, Macchi, is the most fragile and useless piece in chess. Unable to move more than a single space in any direction, relying on the other pieces to protect him… The king cannot even be used as a sacrifice to salvage another piece, for he can never be captured by your opponent. The other pieces must constantly flock to his defense, for leaving the king in check will surely lose you the game in the end. No, Macchi, the pawns…in comparison to the king…are rather valuable pieces. And when you take away my queen, my rooks, my knights, my bishops, and even the pawns…when you incapacitate all but my king..." He shifted a rook on the board so that it was within striking distance of his own king—of this Macchi was sure, for Hao had always assumed the role of the black side. "…_checkmate_."

_Of course, Hao._

_Of course. In the end, it is I who remain the weakest one on your side. I, by some damned, hellish miracle, survived, and I pay the price for any mistakes made that day._

_I loathe you. Diabolic martyr that you are, you have managed to kill what little part of my torched soul remained untouched…the part that believed in your respect for me—however minuscule it may have been._

_All right then._

_You'll have your duet, Hao…for this song is not yet over._

"So you'll understand, Macchi," Hao broke into her unspoken colloquy, "why you and I will not be facing Artemis' current master. I hope you have found our time together well-spent, for this is where we part ways." Rising from his long-occupied seat in front of the bonfire, Hao turned towards the surrounding forest area. "You may stay here for as long as you wish, but I intend to be gone shortly after dawn." He began approaching the wooded land.

"Hao," Macchi said softly, and much to her amazement, he stopped. A cold wind raged through the clearing, frost piercing through Hao's normally sufficient clothing. _Amazing, the irony…_ He thought to himself. _Spirit of Fire and all…I am like any other man when it comes to waging war with the cold._ "Is this it?" Macchi went on. "You're leaving me here with nothing more than a farewell?"

Hao closed his eyes with his back still to her, smiling haughtily. "I know not whether you intend to be here when I get back, but for your sake…I would advise you not to toss your fate to the wayward winds. There are other roads for you, other paths for you to take. This is a fork in your current one. I go to the left, and I suggest you scurry along to the right."

"What disturbs you so, Hao-sama?" she asked. "Do you believe me to be that much of a setback, or is it something else that compels you to abandon me here?"

"Choose your new destination wisely, Macchi," Hao called back to her, resuming his departure. Knowing it useless to challenge his decision, Macchi could only watch helplessly as he disappeared into the forested region—for reasons unknown. Sighing, she looked deep into the flames that Hao left behind, realizing how starkly they contrasted against the rest of his icy nature.

------

_You seem very perturbed today, Hao. It's quite unlike you._ Hao heard his spirit's observation—a comment laced with arrogance, for an elemental spirit knew nothing of emotion—and chose to disregard it. He instead dedicated his attention to pushing aside the underbrush and branches that obstructed his path, often stopping to disentangle stray leaves from his suddenly cumbersome hair. _I do believe you're becoming soft. Why not burn everything and get it out of your way?_

"Don't you think enough things have been burned in one day?" Hao snapped in response.

_Have I touched upon a nerve, Hao-sama? _His spirit remarked calmly.

"Rather than murmuring obscure comments in my subconscious, conserve your energy for the task at hand."

_You underestimated her those many years ago, Hao. Don't make the same mistake with me. _Hao's comment was rather deftly surmounted. _"The task at hand," he says. Since when has fire-scrying been remotely difficult?_

"Mistakes made centuries ago will now have to meet their termination, Spirit of Fire. It is for this that I suggest you save your energy."

_I wouldn't call what transpired a mistake, per se. You don't make mistakes. Let's call her your…failed endeavor._

"Your comments are unbecoming, you know."

_You resent their deaths, don't you?_ The Spirit of Fire asked dimly. Hao's delicate, careful hand paused on a dew-coated branch as he weighed various answers in his mind.

"I don't resent their deaths…not at all. After all, death is the only _true_ reprieve. They're experiencing their well-deserved rest, and I can't regret that on their behalf," he retorted finally.

_Reprieve, eh? Is that why you've been skirting the borders of the Gates of Hell for the past thousand years, then?_ His spirit replied in a drab voice.

"I really need to figure out a way to silence you." Hao finally stopped trekking through the woods and sat down in a relatively underbrush-free area. After all, he didn't want to create a conflagration in the pitiful forest. He crossed his legs and entrusted his spirit with the task of scrying for his current foe, the current cause of his completely exposed guise and the main raison d'être for the immense bloodshed that had taken place at his feet and at the threshold of his soul. _I…shouldn't allow this to affect me so_. He silently reprimanded himself, shaking his head. _As I said, they're resting. And I wouldn't want them involved, just as I don't need Macchi embroiled in my affairs, complicating things with her lack of skill._ _Especially when all this entails meeting…_her _again._ His uncharacteristically pessimistic thoughts were interrupted by a yard-long trail of leaves being ignited near him, pointing south-southwest. "Ah…" he remarked thoughtfully. "So that's where the old crone's successor is cowering." After dousing the fire, he rose and began making his way back to the campsite.

_You're welcome_, was his spirit's drab reply.

"Don't sound so wronged. You know all your exertions draw on _my_ energy," Hao responded, sounding much like his usual, arrogant, and happily indifferent self.

------

Upon returning to the place where he had left Macchi barely forty-five minutes ago, Hao found himself completely unsurprised to find her still there, eyeing his untouched chessboard. _Of course, I couldn't have expected her own self-concern to possibly outweigh her perennial pig-headedness._ He thought with a wry chuckle.

"Damn him…" Macchi swore, unleashing a glare cold enough to scald the innocent chessboard. _Weakness is not something I attributed to myself. How could I have been so blind? Of course he thought me weak. Of course he thought me a burden. I couldn't even hold my own against one shaman, while he can fight off a thousand, _she thought bitterly. In a rage, she kicked the chessboard into the flames of the bonfire, willing it and its devilish little pieces to burn and melt into nothingness.

Smiling, Hao approached the flaming chessboard and reached into the fire, pulling it out. Angry though she was, Macchi couldn't help but admire how the flames eagerly licked his bare skin and how he remained completely unharmed. To have such mastery over the elements…or even a _single_ element…that was what she wanted…

"If you're going to pout, please do so in a manner that does not tarnish my possessions," Hao said, and obvious amusement radiated from his voice.

"I don't _pout_," Macchi answered tartly. Hao simply smiled that infuriating, condescending grin and laid down by the fire, staring up at the star-stricken sky. "Is that all?"

"Hmm?" Hao asked, sitting up.

"I know you think I'm weak, Hao-sama."

"Yes I do, which is why for your own well-being I would advise you not to follow me when I leave at dawn," he agreed swiftly.

"And where would that leave me?" she asked quietly.

"Living a peaceful life. You're young. Go to school. Learn something," he said apathetically.

"I want to get stronger, Hao-sama," Macchi intoned quietly.

"Excellent. Go fight a few bears and sit under a few waterfalls," Hao answered with undying cynicism.

"I can't do it alone!" she protested.

"Then find yourself a mentor." Macchi grinned at him, reveling in the fact that he had thrown the prospect to her without her having to bring it up on her own.

And she knew just which side of his many-faced persona to appeal to…

His arrogance.

"Who better to ask than the strongest person I know, Hao-sama?"

Chapter One: End.

Gods above, that took me _forever_ to write. Yes, I know they're probably OOC. I can't help it. Anyway, review! Tell me if you liked, hated, adored, or wanted to claw your eyes out. Or mine.


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